


I worry about you, Sameen

by tulipsandsake



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-17
Updated: 2014-12-17
Packaged: 2018-03-01 21:47:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2788922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tulipsandsake/pseuds/tulipsandsake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Shaw gets injured no one would ever dream to protect her. Except for Root.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I worry about you, Sameen

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lamachine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lamachine/gifts).



> This fic is for Lamachine, I hope you like it and it fulfills your prompt :)

It hadn't even been such a bad injury, really. Just a scratch. Well, maybe not just a scratch, but that depended on how you wanted to call a knife wound just under your left eye. She'd had far worse during her time as a CIA agent.

That was why Shaw was so annoyed right now. No one had ever even considered saying anything to her when she'd been shot (and that had happened a lot of times, both when she was partnering up with Cole and now with John), she didn't need help or pity from anyone.

But Root, that infuriating woman, wouldn't leave her be.

 

Root had seen her taking a painkiller. She'd put on butterfly stitches right after the end of the mission, but that was it. It wasn't that Sameen was hurting that much, but the cut was throbbing and it made her vision blurry.

Root hadn't said anything, she'd simply watched her with her annoying worried puppy expression and passed her a water bottle.

Shaw had accepted it with a grunt.

 

The following day Shaw was on a stakeout, she was waiting for her number to come out of his house and lead her to some place a little less boring than this freezing, quiet neighborhood. The cut on her cheekbone was pulsing, more of an annoyance than actual pain, really, but she found herself bothered by it.

It wasn't like her to be so hung up on a wound taken on the job. Christ, she'd been shot more times than she could count on both hands. She'd been shot on a hand once. That had been fun: one hell of a recovery, but fun.

A knock on the car window made her jump out of her memories of assignments and shootings, making her realize that she had gotten distracted from keeping an eye on her number. When she looked out of the window she found bright, amused eyes and and infuriating smile. Root waved at her with her hand and circled the car to reach the passenger seat. When she opened the door a draft of freezing December wind blew inside the vehicle stinging on Sameen's wounded cheek.

“What are you doing here?” Shaw grumbled looking at the other woman as she made herself comfortable beside her, long hair spilling out of her cap and a plastic bag resting on her lap.

“I'm checking on you, Sameen.- Root replied with a warm smile that was so devoid of her usual mirth it made Shaw feel uncomfortable -You shouldn't be out here alone after the beating you got yesterday. Plus the painkillers are making you drowsy, aren't they? You didn't even notice I was watching you from outside the car.”

Shaw didn't say anything to that remark. Root was right and nothing made her half as mad as admitting that Root was right. She turned her eyes to the front door of her number and said nothing.

She could feel Root's eyes on her, but she tried to ignore them.

After a few minutes of silence she couldn't stand it any longer.

“What?” she said harshly.

Root smiled before answering, as if she'd won a staring contest Sameen hadn't agreed on participating to.

“Aren't you going to ask me what's in the bag?” she replied pointing to the plastic bag still on her lap.

Shaw huffed.

“What's in the bag?”

“I brought you dinner.”

Shaw didn't respond to that, she didn't trust Root when it came to food. How could she trust a woman that forgot to eat more often than not when she was listening to the beeping in her head?

Yet she extended her hand towards her.

Root handed her the plastic bag, which Shaw was surprised to find contained a Styrofoam container, still warm to the touch. When she opened it, it revealed a wonderful, succulent looking steak.

Shaw lifted her eyes to the other woman, who was sitting beside her looking very pleased with herself. Root smiled and handed her a plastic knife and fork she must have had in the pocket of her coat.

“Don't need those” Shaw mumbled fishing for the combat knife in her own coat.

She didn't say thank you, didn't want to make Root get strange ideas, but she ate in blessed, satisfied silence.

 

Root didn't go away, much to Sameen's annoyance. She staid there with her, but at least she was silent.

Their number left his house less than one hour later, headed to a parking lot not far from there and they followed him. He was carrying a gym bag on his shoulder and he looked scared.

When they arrived at the destination a few second after the number they found him already being beaten by a big, tattooed guy while two others were opening the bag: it contained money. Of course, the number was a bank employee; he must have done something really stupid.

Shaw bolted out of the car as soon as she saw the tattooed guy taking a knife out of his pocket. Immediately in action mode, with her gun out, she didn't even look towards Root to see what she was doing. In a swift motion she shot the big one in the knee and ran to their number, dragging him behind the car to protect him from the bullets that a few second later started raining on them from the two other criminals. Luckily for Shaw they were slow and had terrible aim. She could take them.

She took the first one in the arm, but when she got up to shoot the other one a bullet passed near her ear in a whistle. Fuck. She shoot blindly and ducked back next to the terrified man, only to realize she was out of ammo. Double fuck.

“Any chance you have a charger somehow?” she asked the man. He shook his head in panic.

“Then I have no choice but this.” she told him taking her knife, still greasy from the steak.

Shaw didn't even have a chance to take a peek over the car, she just saw Root's feet, heard the shots, then the whimper from their opponent.

Root looked down at her, gun still in her hand and concern in her eyes.

“Stop. I could have taken him without your help.”

The other woman smiled and offered her hand to get her up form the concrete of the parking lot. Shaw refused it. This protector thing was getting old.

 

It was early morning when Shaw came back home. She was tired, her head was throbbing and the sole idea of Root's self satisfied smirk made her regret having accepted that steak: now the woman would think she could somehow nurse her, take care of her or something. She really needed a drink.

As soon as she set foot in her apartment she went straight to the cabinet next to the fridge where she kept her liquor, but when she opened it she didn't find any bottle. She was baffled, she'd bought a bottle of fine stuff earlier that week and she was sure she'd put it in there. Maybe she was just tired and didn't remember things very well, she told herself and went to check on the coffee table in front of the sofa. Nothing there too. Muttering a course she went back to the cabinet, determined to find the damn bottle, drink something and go to sleep for the next eight hours.

Her house was almost completely dark, lit only by the first rays of sun coming in from the thin curtains. It took her a moment to notice the yellow post-it at the bottom of the empty cabinet. She took it with hands already shaking in rage upon noticing the neat, elegant writing on the paper and she read the message.

_You really shouldn't drink while you're on painkillers and you know it, doctor. I'll return your precious bottle when you're better, now go to sleep. XO Root_

Sameen crumpled the piece of paper in her hand and let it drop on the floor. She went to sleep cursing loudly and planning a way to kill Root.

 

Shaw had planned to sleep till that afternoon. She was tired and still battered and wanted to rest as much as possible before being called by Finch for her next number. It didn't go too well.

She woke up with a bad feeling in her gut and didn't move, keeping her eyes closed: she was sure there was someone in her house. Being so tired she didn't think of the most logical reason until she opened her eyes ever so slowly and saw the tall silhouette of Root standing beside her bed. That shook her from sleep.

“What the hell are you doing here?” she asked not even bothering to sit up. She just wanted to go back to bed.

“I was worried about you, Sameen. You didn't do too well with the bad guys today...”

Her self-satisfied smirk was back and Shaw really wanted to punch her. Or kiss her. Christ she was so very tired.

“You know, I can handle myself without you babysitting me.- she argued rolling on her back. She felt the cut under her eye stretch with the movement and grimaced -Now go away and let me sleep.”

Root ignored her and sat down beside her on the mattress, she caressed Shaw's forehead with cool hands. It felt soothing but Shaw wouldn't admit it if her life depended on it.

“I wouldn't want you to get hurt because you're being reckless, Sameen.- Root whispered getting really close to her face, hands on both side of Shaw's head to support her weight -Besides, I'm the only one allowed to hurt you. Right?>>

Shaw smirked. This protector farce was finally getting interesting.

 


End file.
